A Cowboy's Will
She's a city girl looking for escape. He's a cowboy wanting to hold on to home. When his will goes up against her desperation, they might both come out the winner.
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Copyright © 2002 by Charlotte Dillon
All rights reserved
Excerpt from Chapter One:
huge barn and the ranch house where her mother had grown up. For years her mother had kept her away, but once
Blair was grown, who could she blame for staying away then? Only herself.
Of course it had been so easy to believe she was too busy to get away, that she would find time to visit later. Her
grip tightened on the steering wheel. She felt sick to her stomach. Her grandfather was gone. She had shown up
at last--for his funeral--and then again today for the will reading.
It had surprised her to find a letter from his lawyer when she returned to New York. The letter requested that she be
here for this reading. She had called the lawyer to be sure there wasn’t a mistake. There wasn’t. Her grandfather
had left her something, though the lawyer wouldn’t say what.
Blair glanced around. So much land! She couldn’t believe her grandfather would leave it all--or any of it really--to
her. She tried to believe though. It would be an answer to her prayers, a way out. The money this place could
bring would give her a way to keep her secret until she was ready to share it. She would be able to leave New
York, her job at her mother’s company, and Victor Taylor, her soon-to-be ex-husband.
Blair drove on, forward down the dirt road. A couple of minutes later she stopped her rented convertible near the
lengthy front porch of the house. She stared up at the white two-story home with dark green shutters, trying to
imagine her mother as a teenager, in jeans and a ponytail.
It wasn’t possible. Monica Lynn Sinclair, president and founder of Sinclair Cosmetics, never wore anything less
than fashionable outfits that each cost more than most families spent on a month’s worth of groceries.
She walked around the front of the vehicle, frowning at the layer of red dust that covered it. She shouldn’t have
ridden with the top down, she decided, feeling as dusty as the automobile looked. She gave her long yellow skirt a
shake, as if that would dislodge the dust. Her mother would say she looked a frightful sight. Anything that didn’t
look perfect in Monica’s eyes was labeled a “frightful sight”. But the fresh air had been so warm and inviting. Blair
had needed a coat in New York when the driver dropped her off to catch her flight. She would return to that same
cold March weather tomorrow, and...
A loud bark broke her thoughts there. Blair looked toward the sound to find a huge black dog near the left corner of
the house. The massive animal gave a few more loud barks. She hadn’t been around animals much, and such a
large one wasn’t a comfort to meet.
“Nice doggy,” she said as she inched back around the car, planning to make her way to the door. She looked at
the open convertible and scenes from Stephen King’s Cujo flashed through her mind.
“Don’t worry about Midnight none, ma’am.”
At the sound of a reassuring male voice, Blair swung her gaze to the opposite corner of the house to find a tall,
handsome cowboy walking toward her.
He took a red cloth from his back pocket and wiped his hands on it. “Midnight was just lettin’ me know I had
company. He wouldn’t hurt a flea.”
“That’s certainly good to know,” Blair heard herself say as she watched the cowboy come to a stop a few feet from
her. He had night black hair long enough to brush his wide shoulders, and he wore faded jeans, dusty boots, a T-
shirt, and a cowboy hat that made the rugged picture complete. The man could have stepped out of one of those
old sexy cigarette ads she used to see so often in magazines.
“Can I help you, ma’am?”
She tried not to stare. “I hope so,” she managed to say.
The cowboy had a square chin, high cheekbones, and a golden tan to die for. He gave the expensive car a curious
glance, then his attention turned back to her. He offered her a seductive half smile that kicked every hormone in
her body into action.
“Ma’am?” he gently prodded when she said no more.
Blair forced her thoughts back to her objective. She opened her mouth, but before she got a word out he spoke
again.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” He was staring at her now, his dark brows drawn together as if he were trying
to solve some deep puzzle. He took a couple of steps forward.
She shook her head before saying, “I was to meet...” Her words faltered when the big dog moved. She watched
as the animal walked over to the cowboy and sat in front of him. They were both too close for comfort.
The cowboy gave the dog a pat on the head. “You were saying, ma’am?”
Blair pulled her attention from the dog, back up to its sexy owner. “I was to meet a Mr. Harold Yates here. I’m to
see him regarding the reading of my grandfather’s will.” Her best guess said that this good-looking fellow was the
one who had worked for her grandfather for so many years. She didn’t recall the cowboy’s name, though she had
heard it often enough from her grandfather. She did remember being told the man was part Native American.
Blair could have figured that out herself...those high check bones...that kiss of bronze on his flesh...even the shape
of his nose. He wore his heritage like the men she knew wore shirts and ties--comfortably.
She noticed that the cowboy’s smile had faded. He looked at her with what she could have sworn to be open
hostility. Now that he was closer, she saw that his eyes were dark, darker than simply brown, they were nearly
black. She tried to keep her smile in place. “If you would be so kind as to...”
“No damn wonder you look familiar.” The cowboy shoved the red cloth into his back pocket. “You’re a day early,”
he said accusingly, as if she had committed some crime by showing up today instead of tomorrow.
She lost her smile. She had no idea what had suddenly turned the man’s attitude so sour. “Well, yes...I realize
that. I wanted to look around, and I simply won’t have time after the will reading. I have an important meeting that
evening. I’ll have to catch a flight out as soon as the reading is over.” She didn’t know why she was explaining
herself to him. He hadn’t even bothered to give her his name. “I’m Blair Taylor,” she said, giving him an opening to
introduce himself.
“I know damn well who you are, lady.” He made the word lady sound like an insult.
She drew herself up straight, trying to make her five-foot-three form look taller. “Then you have an unfair
advantage. You are?” She let her words hang, waiting for him to supply an answer.
“Cody. Cody Lawrence. I work for your grandfather.” There was nothing less than ice in his voice.
Blair stared calmly into those dark eyes, wondering what she could have done to get off on such a bad footing.
Unable to think of anything, she decided to give the cowboy an honest cause to dislike her. “Correction, Mr.
Lawrence, you worked for my grandfather. He’s gone now. Remember?”
Cody took a couple more steps forward, around the dog. The anger Blair saw in his expression was
unmistakable. She had to force herself not to move backwards.
He pointed a long tan finger at her. “I sure as hell don’t need you to remind me that Grady’s gone. I was with him
when he had that heart attack, when we laid him in the ground two months back. Just where the hell were you and
your sorry ass mother, though? That’s what I’d like to know. It isn’t like the man had any other family left.”
Blair’s mouth fell open. It took her a full minute after the attack to put words together. She didn’t know what to say,
what to do, so she spit out the first words that reached her tongue. “That is none of your business Mr. Lawren...”
He cut her off rudely, something he evidently made a habit of doing to others. “Not Mr. anything, lady. The name’s
Cody. Just plain old Cody.”
“I can think of a better name for you. Quite a few of them right now in fact.” But she wasn’t going to waste her
breath. She was too tired to argue, and her stomach was beginning to feel as if it might revolt.
Instead of continuing with the argument, Blair walked around to the back of her car, keeping most of the car
between herself and that big black dog. She tried to pretend that neither man nor beast was there. Her mother
had taught her first hand how to treat others as if they didn’t even exist. Monica Sinclair could force a secretary to
leave the office in tears without saying a word.
And besides, surely there was another hired man and probably some lady who cooked and cleaned that her
grandfather had never mentioned. Blair didn’t think this irritating cowboy lived here alone, not on such a sizable
ranch. Surely it took more than two people to run it. She also decided that she didn’t have any reason to fear for
her safety. No sense in letting this self-important ogre push her around just because he thought he could. Tired of
being pushed around, Blair made up her mind to put a stop to it. She opened the trunk, determined not to be
swayed in the least from the plans she had made.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Cody demanded.
She took her matching suitcase and overnight bag out. “I, Mr. Lawr...Cody, am removing luggage from the trunk of
my car.” She shut the trunk, went all the way back around to the front of the car--to keep extra space between
herself and that dog--and then headed toward the house.
The tall cowboy made it to her before she reached the porch. Thankfully the dog didn’t move. “Oh, no you don’t,
lady! You’re not spending the night here. No way in hell! Town’s only about thirty minutes away. It ain’t much, but
there’s a small motel. You can get yourself a room there, a meal across the street, and come back in the morning
for the will reading. That’s when you were supposed to come anyhow.”
She had to look up to meet his angry glare. She tried to seem unimpressed by his animosity, and by his size. “As
of in the morning, this ranch will belong to me,” she said with much more assurance than she felt. “That will make
me your boss. Maybe you should consider that before you start handing out orders.” That possibility, no matter
how remote, should knock a little sense into him, she thought with satisfaction.
He stared down at her as if murder were on his mind. “That’s if Grady left the Red Bluff to you. And even if he did,
it’s not yours until tomorrow.” He took a step forward after every couple of words, causing her to take a step back
each time until she bumped into the side of the car.
“If he left me the ranch?” she repeated. Did this man know something she didn’t? Maybe that’s why he was acting
so authoritative. Maybe he had already seen the will and knew the ranch hadn’t been left to her?
“I reckon we won’t know who owns it...not until tomorrow when we get a look at that will,” he added.
He hadn’t seen the will. He didn’t know any more than she did. She took a steadying breath. “I suppose we will
see tomorrow. But of course he left it to me. Why else do you think his lawyer asked me to come all this way out
into the middle of nowhere?” She made an expansive sweep with her arms. “I was Grady’s only grandchild, after
all.” Though she didn’t know how much that counted for. “And the lawyer said my mother didn’t need to come, so
that means he couldn’t have left the ranch to her. And like you yourself said a moment ago, Grandfather didn’t have
any other family left.”
“I said we’d see tomorrow.”
“You’re not hoping he left this ranch to you, or to someone else who worked for him?” Her grandfather could have
done that. He could have left her some personal family items only. She wasn’t about to admit that aloud, not to this
man.
“No one else works here. Just me.”
She tried to swallow a knot that seemed stuck in her throat. So, they were alone. That took her bravery down a
notch. But it didn’t affect her pride by an ounce. “I’m sure you are mentioned in the will...in some small way. But
why on earth would anyone leave so much property to an employee?” She was bluffing better than a poker player
on one of those late night movies she watched too often. When a man’s family had no time for him, why shouldn’t
he leave his home and possessions to someone who cared for him, to someone who was around when he needed
them? Blair saw all her hopes and dreams going up into a thin cloud of smoke that the wind would soon blow
away. Sometimes people did get what they deserved after all.
Maybe she was getting hers now.
“Get in your little red car and hit the road, lady. It’s the safest thing you can do.” He snatched the two expensive
cases from her hands and tossed them into the back seat where they landed with a couple of bounces.
“Watch it! I have a very expensive lap top in that suitcase.”
He didn’t seem concerned. “Harold will be here around ten in the morning. If you know what’s good for you, you
won’t show up before him.” He stepped back to give her room to escape.
She gave him her best glare, though her insides were shaking. “If anything in either case is broken, I’ll hand you a
bill for it.” Blair refused to allow herself to hurry around the car, no matter how her senses insisted she run. She
walked, stumbling once when her high heel came down on a rock.
“I won’t pay it.”
She met his dark eyes again as she opened the door. Blair fought back tears of fury as she climbed into the car.
She couldn’t believe a hired hand who had worked for her grandfather would dare treat her in such a wretched
way. “I’ll enjoy kicking you off of this ranch in the morning.” The angry words were out before she could stop
them.
“You might,” he said. “Then again...I might enjoy kicking you off once more.” He had the nerve to flash her a self-
assured smile.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe he did know something after all? But she wasn’t going to back down
now. “We’ll just see about that...Mr. Lawrence,” she couldn’t stop herself from adding.
Cody had to jump out of the way as the angry woman backed up enough to make a U turn and head out. “I told you
it’s Cody!” he yelled as she spun her tires, throwing a cloud of gravel and dust at him. He coughed and fanned
some of it away as he watched her flee down the road that led off of the Red Bluff Ranch and back to the main
highway. Midnight ran over and barked a farewell, wagging his tail. “Here, boy.” The dog came to him and Cody
gave the animal’s big head a few pats without looking down.
“Who am I kidding, Midnight?” Of course Grady had left the ranch to his only grandchild. The old man had talked
about her often enough. Blood was thicker than friendship -- no matter how strong the bond. Grady certainly
wouldn’t have left the Red Bluff to Blair’s mother. No way in hell.
Grady had told Cody all about Monica. How she had run off from this place when she was only seventeen. She
had hated the ranch, the lifestyle out here, so Grady wouldn’t have left it to her. Cody couldn’t see how leaving it to
her spoiled rich daughter would be much better though. But just the same, he knew Grady’s will would name her as
the new owner. For some reason, Grady had never given up on his granddaughter. Never blamed her when she
didn’t come to see him. It was foolish the way the man hung his hopes on her. Cody couldn’t understand
it.
But he owed Grady too much to go against whatever he had decided. Cody didn’t know where he would be today
if Grady hadn’t been able to see beyond the shabbily dressed, angry-with-the-world teenager who had showed up
at the Red Bluff looking for a meal as much as a job. Grady had taken him under his wing. He had given Cody
more than a job. Grady had become the father Cody had never had. This ranch had become home, which was
why the thought of leaving it hurt so deeply.
Losing Grady had been almost more than Cody could stand. How would he take losing his home? For a man who
would soon turn thirty-one, Cody had no one and nothing in his life that he cared to brag about, nothing human that
was. Not anymore.
A little later in the story......
Cody tossed one way and then the other. He punched his pillow and turned onto his stomach. He kept his eyes
closed and laid perfectly still for a long time, but it didn’t work. There seemed to be no way he could get to sleep.
Too much had happened today for him to shut his mind down. He still couldn’t believe he had been left half the
ranch. It was amazing! He also couldn’t believe what Grady had done to him though. To stick him here with that
female for a whole month!
He opened one eye and looked at the bright digital numbers on the alarm clock near his bed. It was already nearly
eleven. “Damn it to hell! I give up.” He wasn’t going to get any sleep this way. He tossed the sheet back and
climbed out of bed. Midnight was sleeping on a rug near the bed. Cody stepped over the big dog instead of
walking around him. The animal didn’t move an inch.
Cody made it all the way to the door of his room in nothing more than his briefs before he thought better of it. There
was a woman in the house now--as if he could forget. What if he ran into her in the hall, maybe on her way back
from the bathroom? That wasn’t likely. She was probably sleeping like a baby.
The thought of her sleeping so peacefully, when it was her fought he was awake and agitated really ticked him off.
He grabbed his jeans, stepped into them and jerked them up. He zipped them but didn’t bother with the button.
He opened the door and turned back to the dog. “You coming or staying?” Midnight finally raised his head. He
stared at Cody for a second with big sleepy brown eyes, then yawned. “I take that as a no,” Cody said as the dog
laid his head back down on his front paws and closed his eyes.
In the hall Cody paused outside of Blair’s bedroom door. There wasn’t a light on, not a sound coming from inside.
She was no doubt sleeping soundly. He fought the urge to open her door wide and slam it shut, just to wake her.
Once he made his way downstairs, he was surprised to find the kitchen light on, and even more surprised to find
Blair Taylor herself sitting at the table wearing a pink robe with enough ruffles and lace for a baby’s crib. Her blond
hair was still up in a neat bun, but she had removed her make-up. With the make-up gone she looked younger, not
so sophisticated. Her face’s complexion was fair, so was her throat.
His eyes moved lower, but the robe covered up anything else he wished to judge. He suddenly felt disgusted with
himself. He couldn’t believe he was looking at her like a... like a... woman instead of the enemy she was. This was
the last thing he needed when he couldn’t sleep already. She hadn’t noticed him yet. He started to turn around to
leave...
That’s when the thought hit him out of the blue. He glanced down at the way he was dressed. Half-dressed that
was. That could be a help in his scheme. It was mean and calculated, and Grady would not like it one bit. But
what better way to run her off? None that he could think of. As if he were a soldier caught in the line of fire, a battle
plan sprang to mind. Heck, this could even be fun.
Let the games begin. He wiped the smile from his lips, then cleared his throat to get her attention since she
seemed lost in another world.
Blair looked up from her soothing cup of warm herb tea to find Cody Lawrence standing in the kitchen doorway.
Thankfully she hadn’t just taken a swallow, because she would have probably choked to death right then and there.
The man didn’t have a shirt on, and the button on his form-fitting jeans had been left undone so the waist gaped
open a little. It all allowed her a clear view of a flat stomach and smooth, tan skin. He didn’t have much hair on his
chest, and only a thin trail that dipped down beneath the waste of his pants. Her mouth went dry.
“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked.
Blair dragged her gaze upward to his face. His night-black hair was tousled from lying in bed. His dark eyes
seemed to smolder with an unspoken invitation that no red-blooded woman would want to turn down. She finally
managed to nod her head in reply to his question.
“Maybe your conscience is getting to you after all,” he offered.
Blair let his accusing words shake her lose from the spell his blatant sexual appeal had woven so effortlessly. “My
conscience is perfectly fine, Cody.” She hadn’t done anything wrong, no matter what he thought. She was only
here to claim what her grandfather had wanted her to have. “I couldn’t sleep because I was a little too warm.” Not
to mention sick at her stomach again. The herb tea she had brought with her was helping a little bit. “You really
should have central air in this place.”
“We do have central air. Just don’t use it this early in the year. Open your window. It’s got a screen on it to keep
the mosquitoes out.” After that reply, Cody stood there and stared at her for a long moment. Then he smiled, a
little half smile that she found too sexy for words.
That’s when she realized she was staring again, probably like a hungry kitten at a bowl of fresh cream. That smile
of his said he had noticed too. Darn. She felt the unwelcome warmth of color rise to her cheeks, and she hated
him for it. She started to tell him how she felt, but changed her mind. Admitting aloud that he was bothering her,
that she was attracted to him, would only embarrass her more.
“What are you doing up?” She asked the question as if she were a caring friend.
He shoved away from the doorjamb and crossed to the refrigerator. “I got hungry. When I found you up, I thought
you might be recalling the way you treated Grady. How many times you could have come to see him if you had
wanted to. That maybe you did have some small amount of conscience after I had figured you to have not an
ounce.”
He was trying to provoke a fight, and she wasn’t going to lend him a helping hand. Her back was to him now, so
she heard him open the refrigerator door. It shut, and then she heard the slight clang of a piece of silverware
against glass. “I hardly knew my grandfather from when I was a child. We didn’t get to build that normal
child/grandparent relationship that others have,” she said honestly.
Blair had spent most of her childhood in boarding schools. Back then she barely saw her own mother and father,
much less any other family members. What she did know about her grandfather, she had learned through the
occasional letters and phone calls they had shared over the years.
Cody placed a half-gallon of milk, a saucer, knife and fork on the wooden tabletop, then nailed her calmly with
those dark eyes. “Now I just wonder whose fault that was. It sure wasn’t Grady’s. He tired often enough to work his
way into your mother’s life, into yours through her.” Sarcasm dripped from each
word.
Blair wasn’t used to being around people who showed their dislike of her so openly. “Maybe it wasn’t completely
my fault either. That is possible, Cody, whether you believe it or not.” She didn’t try to explain any further.
Somehow she knew it wouldn’t do any good. His mind was already made up, and she was as much a villain in his
thoughts as her mother was. Maybe he was right.
“Sure.” He got a tall glass from the drainer near the sink, and then took a seat across from her.
He was putting forth one heck of an effort to get her ire up, but she didn’t feel like fighting with him. In some ways
she felt as if she deserved his condemnation. Once she was old enough, she could have come on her own to see
her grandfather, reached out to him more. She wished desperately that she had.
Of course, humans had a habit of realizing how important something could have been, only after that something
has been taken from their reach.
Blair watched Cody pore himself some milk before he uncovered the delicious-looking chocolate cake that sat in
the center of the table. He had already had a big piece after dinner. How could the man be in such good shape if
he always ate so much? He acted like he was the one eating for two. “I didn’t know one person could eat so
much.”
“What can I say, I have a big appetite,” he said in a sexy low voice. “I have a big appetite for a lot of things.”
She made the mistake of looking up into those eyes again. It was obvious he wanted his words to mean more than
only food.
That made her more uncomfortable than his cutting remarks had. She felt as if the temperature in the room had
suddenly risen fifteen degrees. Her stomach was rolling enough, she didn’t need his added roller coaster ride that
kept her bouncing from desire to anger and then back again.
He arched one brow. “Bet you’d like a little.”
She felt her breath catch. “Excuse me?” Her voice sounded high pitched even to her ears.
He pointed to the cake. “A little cake. Would you like some? I’d be glad to give you as much as you could
handle.” His voice was smoother than the sinful looking whipped chocolate on those thick double-layers.
She shook her head in answer, and in hopes of shaking away the sexual thoughts that were popping into her mind.
“I’m afraid I couldn’t afford those kind of calories this late at night. Besides, I just had a slice of toast to go with my
tea.”
The truth was that she knew something so sweet wouldn’t stay down five minutes before she’d be kneeling next to
her new best friend, the toilet bowl.
He leaned around the table edge and looked at her body a little too closely. “I think you’re too thin. I don’t see
where a few extra inches would hurt you any...especially in a place or two.” His taunting gaze lingered on her
breasts while he spoke.
No wonder sexual thoughts were popping into her mind. Cody was planting them there as surely as he did seeds
in a garden in a backfield. Blair almost felt as if the man had actually touched her. She couldn’t stop herself from
glancing down. She had lost some weight in the last few weeks, and she did have small breasts, but they weren’t
too small, and see fully expected her weight to be going up real soon, and it showing in more than a place or two.
Her anger rose as she looked back up. “Bigger isn’t always better, Cody,” she said with her own sexual
insinuations.
“That’s not what I’ve been told. I thought all women liked bigger.” He gave her a wink.
“That’s enough,” she snapped. She might as well put a stop to this sexual undertone right off. Emotionally she was
in no shape to play these kinds of games. Victor Taylor had inflicted too much damage on her heart.
“Enough of what?” Cody gave her an innocent look, like he had no idea what she was talking about.
“You know of what.”
He cut himself a huge piece of the cake. As he lifted the slice onto his plate, he got chocolate on the tips of his
finger and thumb. He gazed into her eyes as he sucked the dark frosting from his finger, then his thumb--very
slowly. “Sure I can’t temp you enough to get you to at least try some? You might like it.” He spoke in a tone that
offered much more than cake. “It’s really hard to resist chocolate.”
Blair couldn’t believe that his lascivious suggestions had caused a tingle to center itself in the pit of her stomach.
She didn’t know if she were madder at him for doing it, or herself for actually responding. She stood and shoved
her chair back, causing the legs to scrape against the checkered linoleum floor. She went to the sink and placed
her cup and saucer down a little too firmly. She turned, sat her sights on the doorway, and marched right toward
it.
She didn’t make it though, because her tormentor reached out and caught her by the arm. His hand felt large and
warm. Through the sheer sleeve of her robe she could feel the roughness of calluses earned by hard work.
Gooseflesh moved along her skin from the heat of his touch. She shivered.
He looked up and down the length of her, slowly, making her feel like she had nothing on at all. Her heartbeat
doubled.
“Have sweet dreams, Blair,” he said on a soft breath.
She stared down at him, wanting to slap that smug smile from his handsome face, but not daring to. She jerked
her arm free from his hold, trying not to notice the heat crawling up her flesh from his touch. She couldn’t believe
her body would betray her and actually react to him. Hadn’t she learned her lesson about good-looking men from
Victor?
She rubbed her arm, as if that would rub the sensation away. “I hope you have nightmares!”
He was still smiling. “Oh no, ma’am. I’ve got a gut feeling that I’m going to have real hot dreams
tonight.”
She couldn’t stand it, not another suggestive word. She’d had more than enough to push good sense aside. She
was about to shatter apart inside, and then fall right at his feet. Without thinking about the consequences, she
picked up his full glass of milk and held it up over his lap.
Cody didn’t try to stop her, he just gave her a you-wouldn’t-dare look.
It was the last straw.
She dared.
Blair felt out of control as she tilted the glass and poured the cold milk right into his lap. He hollered and jumped
up, knocking his chair over. It landed on the floor with a crash. Those dark eyes snapped at her, but he didn’t say
a word. Not a single word. He did draw his large hands into fists though, as if he were holding himself back.
“There,” Blair said as she sat the glass back on the table with a thud. Her hand shook. She hoped he didn’t
notice. “Maybe that will help cool you off some.” She left the room and headed up the stairs, refusing to allow
herself to run when every instinct within her yelled for her to run for her life.
She did listen for him to follow, but all she heard was the blood pounding in her ears. Her heart beat out a warning
message, insisting she flee faster. She obeyed, but with a very fast walk, not a run.

